Work Text:
Utena never really got the chance to look at the rose garden, did she?
Despite being the place Himemiya worked at every day, always attending to, she never took the time to examine the flowers. Well, flowers didn’t interest her all that much to be honest, but they might be a way to grow closer to Himemiya. The flowers and the garden seemed to have some type of importance, if the student council were to be trusted, but they weren’t the top of her reliable list, so she mostly decided to visit for her sake.
The path was short and sweet, across the hallway she thought was always too eerily quiet: Ohtori wasn't exactly the loudest academy, but the hall leading up to it cast a strange light, almost directing your attention to the garden. No one looked to be inside at the moment, which gave Utena a great time for herself instead of being roped into another duel or other type of scheme.
The entrance was simple, a departure from the many grandiose things in the academy. Now that she took the time to inspect the surroundings, a feeling immediately jumped at Utena to realize the garden really was beautiful, even down to the sweet but not overbearing aroma of petals.
Utena looked up carefully as she stepped inside. “birdcage,” she remembered Touga calling it. A place to contain, keep trapped. Utena scoffed at that, walking deeper inside. As if.
The most beautiful flower to catch her eye was the red rose. Cautious not to touch, she leaned in to inspect a small batch of them. each shined in a brilliant crimson, thorns and dangerous, but the red of the flower itself was wonderful to see. They must be the centerpiece here, with Himemiya being the Rose Bride and all. Even in comparison to other roses she’s seen in her life, this one felt more… alive.
It sort of reminded her of Himemiya’s dress.
Idly, she wondered if the roses they used in duels were from the garden. it would make sense, wouldn’t it? She was too busy trying to cut them to appreciate it, but if it was the case she suddenly felt a pang of pity for ruining them.
She quickly found her own flower, the white rose. it didn’t look quite as striking, if utena was to be honest, but it was pretty in its own way. she didn’t quite know how it represented her, but that’s the flower that was chosen, she supposed. ‘Perhaps Himemiya chose the color herself,’ the thought made her smile.
As she walked the grounds, the flowers of other classmates crossed her: Juri’s orange, Miki's blue, even Saionji and Touga.
The garden was overall taken care of with an almost spotless care. The walkway looked spotless without a stray petal lying around. even the vines above looked deliberate, in a way that framed over the roses with delicacy. The golden watering can Himemiya carried was carefully rested on a small pillar, still full of water.
‘It must’ve taken Himemiya a long time to organize this…’ Utena thought to herself, nearly tripping over a vine. Now wasn’t the time to be clumsy.
It made her wonder how long she’s been doing this.
Did… she even enjoy caring for it?
The thought upset Utena. It was possible all this work was just due to Rose Bride duties instead of something Himemiya actually wanted to care for. There wasn’t really a way to tell though, thinking about it, body tensing at the memories of asking her honest opinion on if she wanted to even be the Rose Bride.
She was always so closed off, to an almost irritating degree.
It was frustrating, and suddenly she felt a pang of guilt for erer enjoying the garden. Why should she enjoy something if it wasn’t even supposed to be here? This could all just be for show, a false getaway to make the school feel more homely, but suddenly it felt like anything but.
With a short sigh, and looking up at the glass enclosure, she only had one thought.
She really needed out of this school.
It felt like a dream.
Utena still couldn’t wrap her head around it, even as the moving boxes were in their newly shared apartment. Her and Anthy, together…
It was a small room, and it certainly needed some time for them to get adjusted to. It was no large dormitory they were used to, just a simple two room apartment overlooking the city roads. Late at night when cars would pass it would be difficult to sleep, and while moving boxes Utena couldn’t help but look at the stains of unknown origin on the floors. It wasn’t the high life, but it was something.
The two of them settled in quietly. There was no fanfare or welcoming party, just Utena and Anthy sitting across from each other with dinner, treating themselves to branded drinks instead of off brand ones. They moved on, step by step.
Finding a job was particularly difficult, with the biggest experience was her schooling, not exactly the story she wanted to tell employers. Her years of athletics seemed to save her though, and Utena quickly soon got adjusted to that as well.
Anthy was still looking, but in the meantime she would stay at the apartment and fix up the place. It gave Utena a bit of a twist in the stomach thinking about it too long, she didn’t want her partner to be in the apartment all day like this.
She couldn’t let this happen again.
“Is something the matter?” Utena figured her face was too obvious.
“Ah, nah, not really. Just hope you don’t feel too cooped up in here.”
Anthy finally turned around to face her, and gave a smile. She had this incredible ability to smile in a way where you never could tell if it was genuine or not, but somehow Utena wanted to believe it was true.
The two fell into genuine serene quietness. It was a bit maddening sometimes, how quiet it was now. Slowly, the sounds of sword clangs began to fade from Utena’s memories, the sensation of metal on her hand felt… off. That place felt so far away now. In these moments she tried to remember for the sake of just remembering, and while she could recall the broad strokes, duels and fighting, every day she felt a memory slip. What was her teacher’s name? What did they even teach her? Were Wakaba’s eyes brown or green? Why did she fight Miki in the first place?
She didn’t think she’d ever get those answers back. The few of them she cared enough to ask Anthy in the past, she didn’t seem too certain either, trailing off her words with a methodical tap of her finger to her chin in thought.
Breaking out of her daydream, Anthy caught her attention (she always did, her eyes just felt so drawn) across the room. She was softly humming to herself. There was some type of tune, but not one she necessarily recognized. It was the miniature vase behind her, Utena focused on. Anthy was slowly filling it with water, and putting two roses into it with utmost silent concentration. Inside it was…
One white rose and one red rose.
“Coincidence?” Utena had to know.
Anthy looked up from pouring in a tad more water from her plastic water bottle. “Coincidence…?” she asked.
“The flowers, it’s…” our flowers, “the ones you had in the garden.”
“Ah yes, I picked them both because I remember caring for them quite a bit.” Considering her words for a second, Anthy continued. “I wasn’t particularly fond of the garden itself, too contained.”
Utena felt herself frown. So, she was right. Those people who forced her into there made her tend to the flowers too. But that brought the question…
“But,” Anthy continued, “I did enjoy the flowers themselves. They were so bright, and I… I was the only one to care for them. They were my work. And these will be too.”
Her partner could only take in these words as they were in an acceptance. Anthy smiled to herself in fond secrecy. She didn’t remember taking care of white and red roses specifically, but she knew how much remembering had been bothering Utena as of late. To be truthful, she picked them up while browsing the store because they reminded her of her partner. If the colors combined, she was sure it would be a color similar to her hair.
This was not Ohtori’s garden. This was Utena and Anthy’s.
Utena allowed herself the mundane luxury of leaning on Anthy’s shoulder in rest, closing her eyes. Anthy was reading some book, a hobby she could indulge herself in finally. It was quiet, Utena’s head felt clear for once. With only the sounds of page flipping, an occasional car honk, she allowed herself to be lulled into peace, finally.